The Stablemaster's Daughter (Regency Rendezvous Book 11) Read online

  Because she had never spent a night bereft of his warm and reassuring embrace, since they reunited, after he made his pledge to that effect. So she resolved to make the separation as easy as possible, because she endured enough drama for two lifetimes.

  From the armoire, she drew a carriage dress made of grey wool, as well as several other personal belongings. At the vanity, she removed the diamond ear fobs and the delicate bracelet Ernest gifted her. With a few twists and turns, she loosened her laces and stripped off the dress.

  Frowning at the heavy trunk that conveyed her things to Howe House, she opted to borrow a couple of pillowcases, which she snatched from the four-poster. Since Ernest purchased the material for her clothes, she selected only those articles she could not live without, leaving behind the most expensive apparel, in the event he could resell them and reclaim some of his money.

  Once she changed into the traveling dress, she fetched her lesser quality boots, which she tied tight, and then lined up the fancy slippers. With a final check of the room, she smoothed the plush counterpane and paused at the footboard, to revisit precious memories.

  “Oh, Ernest.” Tears beckoned, but she swallowed hard and stood upright, determined to make things right. “You will never know how much I love you.”

  In that moment, something inside her fractured, sending minute cuts, lethal in their assault, spreading through her, but she would not be deterred. Because she could not survive a confrontation with and a rejection from her beau. So she would run away. She would flee to some place where no one knew her name, and she could be whatever she wanted to be, including a stablemaster’s daughter, without fear of recrimination or censure, thus she turned on a heel, grabbed the stuffed bundles, and sprinted from the room.

  A single taper lit the hall, as she made her escape. On guard for her lady’s maid and the butler, Henrietta tiptoed across the landing and down the grand staircase. In the foyer, she halted, glanced left and then right, continued to the morning room, and paused at the terrace doors.

  The moon cast a silvery glow on the flagged stones, and a soft breeze thrummed through her hair, as she ventured outside and down the pebbled path. At the back gate, she lifted the latch and skulked into the alley, where she rushed to the mews.

  To her surprise, a soft yellow light emanated from the window of the small quarters in which her father lived, while the family resided in town, and she considered it a sign that fate smiled upon her. She rapped her knuckles on the oak panel, and she started when her father snatched open the door.

  “Henrietta?” Shock invested his features, as he blinked. “What are you doing here, at this late hour?”

  “I need to speak with you, and it is urgent.” Now the pain she had kept at bay burst forth, as the incoming tide, and she wept without restraint. “Please, Papa, I beg you. I must leave, now.” Pushing him aside, she rushed into the modest chamber. “Indeed, I must away, before Ernest finds out—”

  “Before Ernest finds out—what, my little bird?”

  The floor seemed to pitch and roll beneath her feet, and the room spun out of control, as she told herself she must have been suffering from some strange delirium. She had to have imagined Ernest’s entreaty. Slowly. Painfully slowly, she rotated and faced her doom.

  “What are you doing here?” Praying for calm, she pretended nothing was wrong. That her heart was not breaking into countless tiny pieces. “Why are you here?”

  “I could ask the same of you.” He narrowed his stare and then arched a brow. “Going somewhere?”

  “I thought to spare you the difficulties of a broken promise.” Shivering, she fought to maintain control, even as her knees buckled, and he lurched forward to catch her.

  “Henrietta, you make no sense, but that is not your fault, as you had a terrible fright, tonight.” Expecting criticism and recriminations, she was stunned when he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Darling, sit down, as you are still pale, and I am worried about you.”

  “Do you not want me to leave?” She struggled and dropped her bundles. “Are you not preparing to send me away?”

  “What on earth ever gave you such a ridiculous notion?” Wrapping an arm about her waist, he pulled her close. “Sweetheart, you are not thinking clearly.”

  “Yes, I am.” Stock-still, she thrust her chin. “You were not with me, when I woke, and you are always with me. You promised I would never pass a night not spent in your embrace, and you were not there. I was alone.”

  In that moment, Barrington cleared his throat. “Er—Graham, what say we step outside, and let my brother smooth things with Henrietta?”

  “That is an excellent suggestion, my lord.” Papa scowled. “Because I might be moved to violence, if I hear more. As it is, I believe I must insist Lord Ernest marry my daughter.”

  “Sir, trust me, that was never in doubt.” Ernest cupped her cheek, angled his head, and bestowed upon her a thorough kiss, which left her swimming in a sea of confusion. “Now, you will sit.”

  With that, he plopped into a chair and tugged her into his lap.

  “Why were you not there?” Random memories flitted through her brain, and she tried but failed to apprehend their meaning. “What happened after we departed the Hogart’s?”

  “It was quiet in the coach, because you were so pale, and we worried for your health.” He nuzzled her temple. “You could not stop shaking, and before we arrived home, you fainted. So I carried you to your bed, left orders that you were not to be disturbed, because I planned to tend you, myself, and I joined my brother and your father, to strategize our next move.”

  Unable to withstand any more uncertainty, Henrietta burst into tears. “My lord, I am so sorry I shamed you in front of your friends.”

  “But you did nothing of the sort.” Drawing his handkerchief from his coat pocket, he frowned and then dried her cheeks. “Indeed, you were glorious, as you put that dreadful Bland woman in her place, and set Agnes Dudley on her heels. Daresay half the people in the room were cheering for you.”

  “So you are not angry with me?” Hope glimmered, yet she was afraid to trust it. “You will not send me away?”

  “Never.” Cradling her head, he swayed from side to side. “I am going to marry the stablemaster’s daughter, and I do not give a damn what anyone thinks.”

  “I should have been honest with you.” She sniffed. “More important, I should have been honest with myself, but I did so wish to please you. Yet, I suspect I will never be anything more than I am right now.”

  “Henrietta, you have never done anything less, and I owe you an apology. Indulge me.” Resting his chin to her crown, he sighed, and she felt it all the way to her toes. “Do you recall the summer parties my parents used to hold, every August, when you often loomed in the shrubbery and peered through the back parlor window, pressing your nose to the glass?”

  “I do.” Safe and warm in his hold, she let go the tension that tied her gut in knots and relaxed.

  “And how I stole various sweetmeats, which I took to you?” When she nodded, he chuckled. “We used to sit beneath the old yew, on Oker Hill, throw our own private celebration, and stuff our bellies full, until that year my father caught you staring at his guests.”

  “I was six, and Lord Ravenwood insisted my father punish me.” That Henrietta would never forget. “In fact, he ordered my father to spank me, on pain of termination, and Lord Ravenwood refused to leave until it was done, thus he sat and watched my humiliation. It was the only time my father ever struck me, and he wept with me, afterward.”

  “How I hated my father for that.” Ernest tightened his grip. “Though we were but children, I vowed, then and there, that you would one day stand at my side, for all to see, as my wife. That you would dine at our table. You would sleep in the master suite. You would wear the finest clothes. You would boast glittering gems. You would dance at the balls. You would want for nothing, and it is an oath I intend to keep, as a man.”

  “But I only want you,” she replied,
in a small voice.

  “Ah, Hen, you slay me.” Grasping the hair at her nape, he tipped back her head and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss that curled her toes. After several heated, desperately tender minutes, he retreated, only to hug her close. “My mistake was in trying to remake you, but that ended, this evening. Yet all is not lost, and Barrington set in motion a scheme that should settle the matter.”

  “Oh?” She was not sure what to make of that revelation. “Does it involve another musicale at the Hogart’s?”

  “No.” He laughed. “But we can discuss it, in the morning.” In a flash, he rose and carried her with him. “Right now, I want to return to your room, get out of these clothes, and make love.”

  “That is an idea I can wholeheartedly support.” With her nose, she traced the curve of his ear. “Ernest, I do love you.”

  “And I love you, my little bird.” Then he snickered, as he swept her outside. “Gentlemen, crisis averted, as Henrietta bestows her heart upon this beggar.”

  “That is a relief.” Papa glanced at her and smiled. “You need to rest, as Lord Ernest told me what happened, but Lord Ravenwood will set everything right, and he insists you do him a great favor.”

  “Really?” Perplexed by the cryptic comment, she canted her head and peered at Barrington. “How so?”

  “Indeed, this is a chance at redemption, for me. It is an opportunity for me to take care of my little brother, for a change, so I thank you, Henrietta.” Rocking on his heels, Barrington grinned. “As for my plan, given I am a marquess, that counts for something. But suffice it to say, I have friends in high places.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The following evening, at the prescribed hour, Ernest and Henrietta, with Barrington acting as chaperone, descended the Ravenwood brougham, at Hyde Park, to partake of the Promenade. Coiffed to perfection, his fiancée cut a flawless picture of the perfect English noblewoman, yet one of her unique creations set her apart from the crowd. Now, if only she would stop fidgeting.

  “Are you sure about this?” She bit her lip and surveyed the throng. “Can we not come back next year? Or, perhaps, in the following century, when they are all dead?”

  “Do not fear, my little bird, as I am with you.” With Hen firmly anchored on his arm, he led her into the rotation. Yet he ignored the not so polite stares and the number of those who gave them their backs. Were they so perfect? Bloody hypocrites. “And I shall not leave your side.”

  “I fear I am going vomit.” Pale, she slowed and inhaled a deep breath. “Whatever happens, do not let me faint in front of the ton.”

  “Darling, relax.” Was it too soon? Had he overestimated her fortitude? “I promise, everything will be fine. And you will not vomit, because you have had naught but dry toast and weak tea, this morning. I told you to take lunch, but you refused. Daresay, it is the effects of ravenous hunger that plague you.”

  “But I am too nervous to eat.” With her hand, she clutched her throat and toyed with the diamond necklace he insisted she wear. “What if Mrs. Dudley or her horrible sister is here? What if I am confronted?”

  “I wager you can handle them.” Barrington positioned himself alongside Henrietta, sandwiching her between two estimable Howes. “By the by, I am sorry Florence is not here, but I forbade her from attending, because she is not rested after last night. She was so furious, I feared she might be moved to violence, if she spied either of the two harridans, here, and I would rather not have my pregnant wife arrested for assault.”

  “I understand, completely.” Henrietta glanced from left to right, and Ernest noted the lines of strain etched about her eyes. All of a sudden, she started. “Oh, dear.”

  “What is wrong?” It was then he discovered the source of her discomfit, a rapidly approaching Beryl Hogart, accompanied by Lady Jersey, and he whispered, “Easy, as she is the soul of charity.”

  “Lord Ravenwood, Lord Ernest, and Miss Graham, it is so good to see you.” Profuse with dramatic emotion, Mrs. Hogart made a show of addressing Henrietta. “I had it on my list to pay call, but you so generously grant me an audience, instead, and I am honor-bound to make my apologies for the shameful treatment meted on you, while you were guests in my home.” With a lace-edged handkerchief, she daubed her large nose and sniffed. “I only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for the egregious breach in decorum, Miss Graham. I can assure you, such behavior is not the norm at my events. And I said to Mrs. Dudley and Ms. Bland, ‘Never again will you darken my doorstep or partake of my musicales.’”

  “To be denied such joy is a very great tragedy, indeed, and they are all the poorer for it, but you mistake the situation, Mrs. Hogart.” As Ernest anticipated, his bride-to-be displayed her characteristic humility, while he swallowed a snort and Barrington covered his mouth. “I am as much to blame as anyone, and I am so sorry I ruined your daughters’ wonderful performance.”

  “Oh, you are a woman of discriminating taste and uncommon judgment.” With a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk, Mrs. Hogart peered at Lady Jersey. “Did I not tell you the very same?” Then she gazed at Ernest. “And I said as much, last night, did I not, Lord Ernest?”

  To wit he nodded.

  “So you did, Beryl.” Lady Jersey inclined her head. “We have not been properly introduced, but I am Lady Jersey, and I must compliment you on your fashions, Miss Graham, as they really are quite remarkable.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” As Florence instructed, Henrietta curtseyed.

  “Miss Graham, you would do me a very great honor, if you would consent to create something for my Miranda, for the Duke of Rylan’s ball, because we shall announce her wedding, in The Times, just prior to the gala.” Now that was something Ernest had not predicted, but it played right into his plans, as Mrs. Hogart pressed a fist to her chest. “I beg you, do not refuse me, and I shall pledge unlimited entry to my musicales.”

  “Oh.” Henrietta responded with a timid smile. That threat, alone, was enough to send Ernest running for Derbyshire, but he persevered for his future wife. “I am overwhelmed by your kindness, and the honor is mine, Mrs. Hogart. If you bring your daughter to Howe House, I will take her measurements, and we can discuss colors and materials, as well as her vision and style, because it is important to capture the wearer’s personality to achieve a perfect fit.”

  “Did you hear that, Lady Jersey?” Mrs. Hogart gloated. “Just wait till I tell Mrs. Ponsonby my daughter is getting a Graham original.” Then she waved. “Well, enjoy the Promenade. Cheerio.”

  The surrounding pedestrians whispered and pointed, and Ernest gave Henrietta a gentle nudge. “Let us continue, sweetheart.”

  “What just happened?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “And why is everyone staring?”

  “Because you just got the official approval of not one but two of the most influential matriarchs in the ton,” Barrington explained.

  “Indeed, Beryl Hogart and Lady Jersey wield considerable power in the social arena, and no one will gainsay them, for fear of retribution and censure.” Ernest spied his conspirators, who gathered in their usual place, and steered her in their direction. “But Mrs. Hogart is also one of the most obliging figures in London.”

  “That is why everyone attends her loathsome musicales.” Henrietta nodded to a passing couple, which acknowledged her, and Ernest sighed in relief. “And if I do an adequate job of designing for Miranda—”

  “You are ensured a lifetime of sore ears, as well as Mrs. Hogart’s good opinion.” Barrington snickered. “Given the ensemble is to accompany a wedding announcement, I wager the matchmaking mamas will beat a path to your door.”

  “But I am one person.” Another group of ladies dipped their chins in unison, and Henrietta responded, in kind. “I cannot possibly serve everyone. Will that not hurt me, in their estimation?”

  “Perhaps, we should look into purchasing a boutique, of your very own, if that would make you happy.” Ernest began running the numbers, as he enjoyed finance. “You could interview
and hire additional seamstresses, to help sew your exclusive designs.”

  “My lord, I must confess the idea thrills me, but I have very high standards.” She bit her lip, and he could almost read her thoughts. “Still, if I require samples of their work, and I speak with each prospective candidate, we just might succeed in building a profitable enterprise.”

  “Ah, I love it when you talk money.” Thus they arrived at the pivotal moment, and Ernest winked at his allies.

  “Ravenwood and Lord Ernest.” His Grace, Blake Elliott, the Duke of Rylan squared his shoulders, and it was as though all of society held their collective breath. “And this must be the inimitable Miss Graham, I presume? The Duke of Rylan, at your service.” Then he broke character and cast a devilish countenance. “My duchess speaks of little else besides your designs, and I wonder if I might impinge upon you to make a dress for her?”

  “Well, now you have done it.” On cue, His Grace, Damian Seymour, the Duke of Weston elbowed Rylan, and the ducal duo, well known for their longstanding affiliation, launched their scheme. “If you buy a gown for Lenore, then I must purchase one for Lucilla.”

  “And that is my problem, how?” Rylan scoffed. “It is not as if you cannot afford it, cheap bastard.” To Henrietta, he said, “Spare no expense, Miss Graham, as I would have only the finest for my duchess.”

  “I swear, you are intent on bankrupting my dukedom.” Weston shoved aside the other duke. “I shall pay double for a garment of equal quality.”

  “My card, Miss Graham.” Rylan extended a hand.

  “And mine.” Weston pushed to the fore.

  “Your Graces, there is no need to argue, as I shall be delighted to outfit both duchesses.” For the first time since they arrived in the park, Henrietta surrendered Ernest’s escort, collected the cards, and stashed them in her reticule.

  And then a veritable sea of ladies, demanding similar services, swamped her.